


How many is enough?

by Verdic



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: DNDecember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 08:51:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12931818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verdic/pseuds/Verdic
Summary: The graduation ceremony for the Monster Hunter's guild is very unforgiving.





	How many is enough?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot one of my friends did in a world she created for NanoWriMo: Cliffworld. Think Flatland, but the entire world is a cliff, and gravity goes down the face of the cliff.

Stybjorn grunted as Emaline finished the wrapping around his ribs. He had finally stopped bleeding, and his cracked ribs were properly set. With a final pull, Emaline finished tying the bandage and helped Stybjorn to his feet. Both monster hunters stood just over six feet were built for action. Emaline’s arms were as thick around as the average man’s leg, and her body was as hard as a rock. Stybjorn was on the leaner side, his muscle more streamlined for fast movement. Both of them had been the only ones from their classes to not either fail out or die. 

Monster hunters were a big deal in Cliffworld. With so little room to build outwards, many people used the cave systems that littered the world to expand their domiciles. In order to do that, Monster hunters had to go into the systems and root out any jewel beasts. While there were many amature monster hunters, the only people who could call themselves that were graduates of the academy. The classes and training were brutal. A class of fifty may winnow down to only five before graduation. 

This graduation, however, had only two people. Emaline was a noble who had trained to become a Monster Hunter, carrying on her family’s legacy. She was an expert in large weapons and always kept at least two on her. Stybjorn was a regular admissions student. He had come from the Uppermost settled regions of the known world. His tribe were mostly herdsmen, but he felt a different calling. Battle sang in his veins, and he became an adventurer. It soon became clear that better and more profitable jobs could be had if he became a licensed Hunter. 

The graduation itself was simple. Both of them were left in the same spot, at the mouth of a cave. They had to go in and kill at least one monster and bring the corpse back. However, there was no upper limit to the amount of monsters they could kill and claim, and many people said that if you killed a lot or even a rare one, you got a special license.

Stybjorn leaned on Emaline’s shoulder a he adjusted to the cracked ribs. “How many were you able to pull back with me?” He asked, a slight flush on his face.

“One Red, but I had to leave the rest or they would have killed you.” She replied, slipping an arm around his waist to help keep him upright. They had three red jewel wyrms, four grey ones, and a green. It was a decent haul, but only of common types of jewel wyrms. 

“Thanks. I’d rather live to see the end of my graduation.” Stybjorn had to smother a laugh as his ribs creaked. “So, what do we do now? We have about eight hours till they come to check on us.” 

“I know something we can do.” She pulled his waist closer to her. Leaning in, she whispered. “We can go back in one more time.” Stybjorn smiled at her. Gingerly, he removed his hand from around her and took his whole weight. The pain was bearable, and he crouched to gather his weapons: a few javelins, a war pick, and a pair of spiked cestuses. His leather armor was torn up, but still provided more protection than his naked skin. He went over and checked to make sure that Emaline’s well crafted mail was secured properly before they headed out.   
They took the left passage this time and started walking in a slow, wide circle. After sixty feet they had completed one half turn of the circle and the corridor ended in a ten foot round room with a four foot hole in the middle. Stybjorn inched forwards and looked down the hole. It fell for about twenty feet before the passageway opened up into a room and in another twenty feet it hit the ground. It seemed to be a small cavern. Stybjorn lit and dropped a second torch. The cavern was only twenty feet wide, but there was a hallway leading off from it. 

“I’ll go first and take a look. Follow when I signal.” Stybjorn said. They tied a rope around one of the rocks and Stybjorn slowly let himself down. At the bottom, Stybjorn could see the room was empty. Lighting another torch, he placed it on the ground and walked down the only exit to the room. 

“See anything?” Emaline called, eager to join her new companion. Stybjorn was about to respond in the negative when he saw one of the last things he ever thought he would see. A door. A wooden door, bound with iron and a keyhole, was in the bottom of this pit in a cavern that was not explored and was not near any settlements. 

“There’s a door. A regular door.” Stybjorn answered dumbly. 

“Open it.” She called down. Shrugging, Stybjorn opened the door. A flare of pink light hit his eyes and he staggered backwards. As his eyes adjusted, he took another step back. Here were Mother Jewels, the living jewels that fed all magic in Cliffworld. Most mages carried pieces of these jewels, which were referred to as children jewels. Only at a living mother jewel could the children be recharged. Anyone who found a mother jewel or who controlled a mine was very rich. This could have been one of those such mines. 

Stybjorn stepped up to the threshold and looked into the room without entering. There was a desk and a chair, and another door. He also saw a bed in the far end of the room, meaning someone lived here. He was about to answer when one of the lumps had had taken as part of the Mother Jewel moved. Looking closer, it was a Pink Jewel Wyrm. It looked like a cross between a lizard and a dog, standing three and a half feet tall. These were very rare, and normally only well seasoned Monster Hunters could tackle one alone. To Stybjorn’s horror, he was staring down seven of these things. All of them had their eyes locked onto him. 

Knowing the forwards was a bad option, Stybjorn did the only other possible thing to do; he ran. Turning and sprinting as fast as possible, he threw the torch away and jumped up to grab the rope. Finding purchase, he started scaling the rope. After ten feet of climbing, he looked to see if he had any pursuers. Two of the Pink Wyrms had followed him and were looking up at him. He sighed as they seemed unable or unwilling to try to get him. However, they were not going away. 

“Afraid of a few puppies?” Emaline teased as she helped Stybjorn back up. He grunted in response as his ribs protested as being used. 

“If you think they’re so cute, you go pet them.” He gave her a hard pat on the behind, pretending to shove her forwards. She cuffed him back.

“So, how are we going to kill one? Think about it, if we kill one for graduation, we are sure to get the best license.” Emaline was practically glowing her smile was so large. 

“There’s something more.” Stybjorn knew he wasn’t getting out of this. Emaline was a noble and used to getting her way. He had come to terms with that part of her early on. “There was a door, and it looked like someone was living down there. There was even a door farther along.” 

“So we only have to kill these two and keep exploring?” 

“Oh right, there are five more of those things.” Stybjorn saw Emaline deflate. “Doesn’t mean we can’t bag one of these.” He offered. “I can’t just tease you and leave you hanging.” She nodded, then her smile came back.

“That’s it, we will hang one of them.” She pulled up the rope and quickly made it into a knot to hang one of the dogs. She let some of the rope around the rock go to make up for the knot’s use of rope.

Stybjorn wasn’t sure this would work, but he decided to stay and help. Taking up position behind her, they started trying to get the loop around the purple wyrm’s head. It took them nearly ten minutes, but finally they looped it and pulled. The wyrm was pulled up by its neck. Stybjorn started wrapping the extra rope around the rock so if it fell, it wouldn’t get to the ground. Emaline and Stybjorn shared a triumphant smile. Stybjorn’s was the first to fade away as he saw the wyrm starting to climb. It had swung over to the wall and was now loosening the strain by climbing towards them. 

They dropped the rope and pulled out weapons. After waiting for a few moments, the purple wyrm’s head and shoulders appeared. Emaline swung her family’s greatsword at the creature. The blade slammed into the creature’s back, but bounced off the armored plating. Emailine took a step back, shocked. In a swift movement, the creature swiped with one of its claws, slashing through her chainmail and burying its claws in her chest.

Stybjorn looked on in shock. He knew Emaline was stronger than he was, and there was no way her was going to fight the monster in his condition. There was nowhere for him to run and he couldn’t leave Emaline behind. He took another look at the purple wyrm. It was about three feet at the shoulder but only weighed about one hundred pounds. Stybjorn was nearly twice its weight and height. In a moment of insane ingenuity, he picked up the rope and jumped down the hole. 

There was a loud, wet snap as his downward momentum stopped. Opening his eyes, He saw he was still ten feet from the floor. There was a purple wyrm on the bottom of the fall, trying to snap at him. On the end of the rope was the other wyrm, its neck snapped. Stybjorn only focused on the one snapping at his heels. He quickly climbed to the top and slumped onto the floor. 

A groan woke him from his respite. He rushed over and put pressure on Emaline’s wound. Grabbing his first aid kit, he quickly applied a dressing to her wound. He couldn’t tell if there was any infection. He was sad to say that he only ever took one semester of first aid. After five minutes of frantic work, he had stopped the bleeding, but she was not where near waking up. Knowing he couldn’t leave her alone, but that she would kill him if he left their prize, Stybjorn hauled up the dead wyrm and strapped it to his back. Summoning his strength, he lifted Emaline in his arms and started trudging towards the cave entrance.

When he finally arrived, he gently laid her on the pile of dead wyrms. He laid the purple wyrm down and continued to care for the woman he fell in love with. Looking at the still dark sky, he knew it would be a long night and a constant fight to keep her alive.


End file.
